


Tell Me

by Persuade_me



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Age gap is smaller than canon, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arya's 20, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gendry's 22
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:28:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23733109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persuade_me/pseuds/Persuade_me
Summary: “You’ve been dreaming of me then?” she asked softly, her fingers brushing lightly against his forearm.Gendry closed his eyes and nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “You’re there every night, Arya,” he said, opening his eyes to look at her. “You have been for far longer than I care to admit.”Her lips curled up in a slow, pleased smile, and her hand slid down to his, pulling it to her waist.“Tell me,” she whispered, pressing his hand into her.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Comments: 70
Kudos: 281





	Tell Me

**Author's Note:**

> This came from a translated line from a Spanish song called "Vuela" by Jarabe de Palo. I do not speak a lick of Spanish, but the line translates to "With your hands, tell me a dream." 
> 
> I have no explanation for how 7 words turned into this.
> 
> Also, just as an aside, the age gap is smaller than canon, two years instead of five. 
> 
> Thanks so much to ObsessiveWriter for both the inspiration and for looking over it for me!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Gendry’s flat was dark when she let herself in, but she didn’t bother with the lights. Her day had been horrendous, and right now she wanted nothing more than to sit quietly in the dim light seeping in through the windows while she waited for her best friend to get home from work. Closing the door behind her, she dropped her bag heavily to the floor and kicked off her shoes, pulling out her phone to text him, to let him know she was there.

**Arya: I’m here. Didn’t get lunch today, so I’m stealing food while I wait for your royal lateness.**

There was a small  _ bloop _ from somewhere in the kitchen, and a faint glow lit up the darkness, an illuminated square shining up from the counter like a beacon. For a moment, Arya thought he’d forgotten his phone again, but as she moved closer, she realized that Gendry’s tablet was lying face up on his island, her text in the middle of his lock screen, obscuring the image of the two of them at Mya’s birthday party two weeks ago.

Her phone buzzed in her hand, and she glanced down to see his response at the same time another  _ bloop _ sounded from his tablet, clearly synced to his cell phone.

**Gendry: K. Should be there in another twenty minutes or so. Got held up after class  
** **Gendry: There’s soup from Hot Pie in the fridge if you want some  
** **Gendry: Don’t eat it all, though. That’s supposed to be my dinner**

She grinned down at her phone as she tapped out a response. 

**Arya: If you didn’t want me to eat it all, you shouldn’t have offered, stupid.**

Checking her phone, she decided she had just enough time to get an actual meal prepared before he made it home. Flicking on the light over his stove, she moved around Gendry’s kitchen, dumping the soup into a pot on the stove, taking bowls from the cabinet and setting his small table, opening a bottle of wine and pouring herself a glass. From his fridge, she gathered the makings of a salad and set about chopping vegetables as the soup heated. 

As she worked, she sipped on her wine and let her mind wander to Gendry. He’d seemed distracted lately, just a bit… off somehow. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was, because nothing had really changed. He wasn’t particularly stressed about work or classes, not so far as she could tell anyway. Things were good with his siblings. As good as could be expected with Robert. Their friendship was the same as it had been, nothing out of sorts there, thank the gods. But there was something, hovering just out of reach, something that she couldn’t define. 

Just last week, she’d been dancing along to some song as she worked in her own kitchen, when she caught him watching her with an oddly intense look on his face, and for a brief, heartstopping moment she’d thought perhaps that it was  _ want _ she saw in his eyes, but then he’d laughed and joined her, shaking his hips and waving his arms in that awkwardly adorable, completely off rhythm manner that was entirely his, that he showed solely to her. 

There’d been moments like that over the years. Moments where she’d swear there was more than friendship in his gaze. Moments that would invade her dreams, morphing into wandering hands and lingering kisses that would have her wake simply aching with need, with want for him. And then she’d slide her hand down between her thighs, trying desperately not to picture her best friend as she touched herself.

Because despite those occasional moments, there’d never been a hint of anything from him, never a whisper. She was his friend. Nothing more. And while she was quite willing, almost embarrassingly desperate for more, the last thing she wanted was to ruin their friendship, because his friendship was everything. 

Sighing, she reached for the peppers, indulging herself half a moment’s fantasy that this was  _ their _ apartment, that he was coming home to her, before she started slicing. She worked automatically, reaching for produce, cutting it up, then setting it aside, and she found herself lulled by the repetitive movements, her mind drifting, lost in her daydream.

A  _ bloop _ sounded from his tablet on the island next to her, startling her out of her reverie, and she glanced over to see Hot Pie’s name pop up on the screen. Smiling to herself, she turned her attention back to the cherry tomatoes she was now slicing in half. Hot Pie and Gendry were an unlikely pair, Hot Pie’s open, gregarious nature an odd juxtaposition with Gendry’s antisocial tendencies, but somehow it worked. 

The tablet sounded again, a response from Gendry she assumed, and she turned to grab the carrots when she saw her name in the text bubble. She stopped short, unable to resist the temptation to see what her two friends were saying about her.

**Hot Pie: Wanna hang?**

**Gendry: Can’t. Arya’s at mine already**

**Hot Pie: =(  
** **Hot Pie: This is my sad face  
** **Hot Pie: I made a new bread  
** **Hot Pie: I have no one to share it with  
** **Hot Pie: I guess I’ll just have to eat it all alone  
** **Hot Pie: Just me and my bread**

Arya huffed in amusement. Hot Pie was always creating new recipes, Gendry and herself often serving as taste testers before he introduced it in his bakery. She made to turn, but then a new message popped up, and then another and then another, and she found herself frozen, staring at the screen, her astonishment growing with every new word.

**Hot Pie: When are you gonna tell her how you feel?  
** **Hot Pie: You really should**

**Gendry: Leave it**

**Hot Pie: It’s getting painful to watch you pine  
** **Hot Pie: It’s been years  
** **Hot Pie: Just tell her, man**

**Gendry: Oh yeah. Just like that**

******Hot Pie: Yeah, just like that**

**Gendry: It’s not that easy**

**Hot Pie: It could be**

**Gendry: Really not**

**Hot Pie: Yes  
** **Hot Pie: What’s the worst that could happen?**

**Gendry: She hates me forever**

**Hot Pie: Never going to happen, my dude  
** **Hot Pie: TELL HER**

**Gendry: What could I possibly say that doesn’t sound creepy?  
** **Gendry: I dream of you?  
** **Gendry: I want to make babies with you?  
** **Gendry: I think about our hypothetical, nonexistent wedding and have already picked my best man? (It’s you)**

**Hot Pie: Thanks, I’m flattered**

**Gendry: You’re welcome  
** **Gendry: You’d probably have to walk with Jon since he’d be her maid of honor  
** **Gendry: But you’re my only option, really**

**Hot Pie: Rude  
** **Hot Pie: But maybe don’t say all that  
** **Hot Pie: Because that’s, like, a lot**

**Gendry: See?  
** **Gendry: What am I supposed to say?  
** **Gendry: And how can I even look her in the eye after the dream I had last night?**

**Hot Pie: Stop. Right there**

**Gendry: Gods. It was just so intense. You know?**

**Hot Pie: I don’t need to know**

**Gendry: Like, I woke up and I swear I could still feel her hands**

**Hot Pie: I’m. Begging. You.**

**Gendry: Just unreal**

**Hot Pie: STOP**

**Gendry:** **¯\\_(** **ツ** **)_/¯  
** **Gendry: Just. Leave it be. Okay?**

**Hot Pie: Fine  
** **Hot Pie: I’ll leave it**

**Gendry: Thanks**

**Hot Pie: But seriously  
** **Hot Pie: You should tell her**

She stood, knife still poised in midair, staring down at the words on the screen. Dimly, she could hear herself breathing shakily, and she realized that her entire body was trembling, overcome. 

“Oh my gods,” she whispered. The knife clattered on the counter, and her hands flew to her mouth. She willed herself to breathe, to slow the racing of her heart, and she moved to grasp the edge of the island, bending down slightly and breathing in deeply. “Holy fuck,” she breathed. “Holy fuck.” She stood up and put her hands on her head. “Holy fuck!”

Her mind was reeling. Gendry. Had feelings for her. Gendry. Who lived in her dreams. Gendry. Her best friend. Gendry. Who she was pretty sure she was in love with. 

She felt hot all over. Her pulse was thundering in her ears, and a kind of panicked glee erupted in her gut, bubbling out in a high pitched, almost giddy laugh. Holy fuck indeed. 

Gendry  _ wanted _ her, had wanted her for years if Hot Pie was correct, and he’d be home any minute now. What the hell was she supposed to do now? How could she possibly keep her cool when he arrived? Not jump him the moment he walked through the door?

“Oh my gods,” she repeated, her voice barely a whisper, and then, like a curtain dropping on a stage, a sudden calm washed over her, and she let out a long slow breath through pursed lips. She knew exactly what she was supposed to do. Slowly, she turned away from his tablet and methodically moved around the room, turning the soup down to low and placing the salad back in the fridge. She grabbed her glass of wine and downed the rest of it, the warmth spreading through her, prompting a confidence she didn’t think she was capable of. 

“Right then,” she said to herself. Grabbing her phone she tapped out a quick message to Gendry, checking to see how far away he was, unable to hold back a smirk when his tablet sounded his reply.

**Gendry: Just got off the tube. Should be there in five.**

She moved quickly now, rushing to his bathroom to check her appearance, looking critically at herself in the mirror. She was a bit of a mess, she had to admit. Her ponytail was messy, flyaway strands of hair sticking up all over her head, and her face was flushed, small red splotches on her cheeks. Frowning, she tugged her hair out and ran her fingers through it, shaking it out to frame her face. There was nothing to be done about her flushed cheeks, though. She doubted they would be going away any time soon.

She scrutinized her outfit, chewing on her lip as she took it in. It was nothing special, just a plain light grey tank top and a black skater skirt that hit several inches above her knee, plain black knickers, and, she realized with a rush of self consciousness, no bra. For a moment, she lamented the fact that she hadn’t worn something sexier, something more appealing, maybe something lacy underneath, but then she scolded herself. This was  _ Gendry _ . He never seemed to care about that kind of thing, not as long as she’d known him, and if he was dreaming about her, then he was going to get the real her, not some made up version.

She met her own gaze in the mirror, took several long breaths, nodded resolutely, then strode out to wait for him.

***

The faint scent of Hot Pie’s potato soup hit him before he even reached his door, and his stomach grumbled in anticipation. Opening the door, he inhaled deeply, savoring the smell of his friend’s cooking. He’d expected to find Arya settled in on his couch, halfway through her own bowl as she watched tv, looking entirely too much like she belonged there, but when he glanced up from kicking his shoes off, he saw that she hadn’t even turned on all the lights. She was leaning casually against his stove, silhouetted against the light.

“Hey,” he said, dropping his bag next to hers and kicking the door shut behind him. “Haven’t you eaten yet?”

“No.”

His eyes darted to her, surprised. “I thought you were hungry.”

“I am,” she said, but she made no attempt to move from where she was. 

He stared at her, confused, but then he saw the table laid out with bowls and the open bottle of wine and a surge of affection for her filled him, bringing a smile to his face. She’d made dinner for them, and it was almost painful, entirely too domestic, the idea of coming home to Arya cooking for him. He brushed aside that little fantasy, and he cocked his head to look at her. “Were you waiting for me?”

“Yep.” Her lips formed the word, drawing out the sound, but she remained still.

Gendry frowned and crossed to the kitchen, leaning against the island and looking at her curiously. “Did you want some help?”

He was able to see her more clearly now, her face only slightly shadowed as she gazed at him with a disconcertingly intense expression. “Nope.” She pursed her lips, drawing out the ‘p’ as she watched him. He had a time pulling his eyes away from those pursed lips.

He blinked at her, feeling hesitant somehow, like he’d just walked into something unexpected. Like he’d forgotten something that he hadn’t known even existed. “Arya? Is everything all right?” 

She was almost completely still, staring at him with her piercing grey eyes, something in them holding him in place. Then very slowly, without breaking his gaze she reached behind her and picked up her phone from the counter. Glancing down, her thumbs tapped one, two, three times, and then she lifted her eyes back to his. Half a moment later, his phone buzzed in his pocket at the same time a  _ bloop _ sounded from his tablet behind him on the island. 

Gendry turned, his eyebrows knit together as he saw her text on his screen.

**Arya: Hi**

Just above the last text from Hot Pie.

**Hot Pie: You should tell her**

It took about ten seconds for the dots to connect. 

Oh.

_ Oh. _

_ Oh, no. _

His stomach plummeted, and his entire body stiffened in horrified humiliation. 

_ She knew. _

She knew, and now everything was ruined. He closed his eyes and his head dropped, his face scrunched up in shame. He stood, frozen, desperately hoping that Arya would take pity on him and just leave him to wallow alone in his misery. 

“Gendry?” Her voice was gentle, kind, and that somehow made it even worse.

He should have known that even in this, she would be kind. That’s just who she was. Even in breaking his heart, she’d be kind. But he couldn’t bring himself to turn around, to see the look in her eyes when she let him down. 

“Gendry, look at me please.”

Her hand landed on his back, wrapping around his shoulder and tugging, but he resisted. Her fingers swept up, across the fabric of his shirt until they reached the bare skin of his neck, dragging against him, coaxing him to turn. His head tilted involuntarily, leaning into her, aching at the heat of her touch.

“Gendry,  _ please.”  _ The insistence in her tone was impossible to ignore. With a deep, resigned sigh, he turned, his shoulders sagging in defeat. She was two steps away, the tips of her fingers still clinging to his skin, and she was looking up at him almost cautiously, as if she was anxious, afraid of what he might say. 

But that couldn’t be right. Could it? 

He studied her face, searching it for signs of pity, but they weren’t there. She wasn’t looking at him in disgust or anger. There was no regret in her eyes, only… A tiny flicker of hope uncurled in his gut, burgeoning tendrils spreading through him until he was engulfed, consumed by it.

She stared up at him for a long moment, then slowly withdrew her hand from where it was resting on his neck, dropping it to settle on his arm.

“You’ve been dreaming of me then?” she asked softly, her fingers brushing lightly against his forearm.

Gendry closed his eyes and nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “You’re there every night, Arya,” he said, opening his eyes to look at her. “You have been for far longer than I care to admit.”

Her lips curled up in a slow, pleased smile, and her hand slid down to his, pulling it to her waist.

“Tell me,” she whispered, pressing his hand into her.

His breath caught in his throat, and he swallowed hard. “Well,” he said uncertainly, “I don’t really know how-“

“No,” she said, her eyes glinting as she dragged his hand from her waist to settle on her breast, and Gendry could feel her heart pounding in time with his. “ _ Tell me. _ ”

She was gazing up at him, eyes wide and lips parted. His fingers twitched underneath hers, brushing the thin fabric of her shirt, and she gasped, arching into him. The hand that was holding his to her breast tightened, and she let out a moan that shot straight to his groin.

“Arya,” he breathed, unable to stop himself. “Is this- Are you-“

She reached out with her free hand to grab his left hand, drawing it to the small of her back and pulling herself closer to where he stood. Heat rushed through him at the feel of her body pressed against his.

“I’m asking you, Gendry,” she said quietly, “to tell me exactly what you dream of at night. To show me what you do to me when you sleep.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted herself up on her toes, halting close enough to his lips that he could feel her breath against them. “To let me do the same.”

He pressed his hand into her back and let out a tiny whine of disbelief. Had he fallen asleep on the tube? Was this just another dream? But this Arya was solid, warm against him and unlike anything his mind had ever conjured.

“Gods, Gendry,” she said against his lips. “You’ve no idea at all, do you? How much I want you.” She tilted her hips forward, pressing into his groin, and he gasped. “How often I dream of you.”

And whatever it was that had been holding him in place broke, and he was crushing her against him, his lips moving against hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth as she responded eagerly, the arms around his neck tightening.

His head was spinning.  _ Arya _ was in his arms.  _ Arya _ was pushing her breast into his hand.  _ Arya  _ was pressed against his aching erection and if he wasn’t somehow having some kind of lucid dream, finally having her, then it had to be real, had to be his fantasy come true. 

She moaned into his mouth, and the hand on her breast moved, his fingers toying with the edge of her tank top, brushing against soft skin just begging to be touched. He pulled back for a moment, tearing his mouth from hers and met her eyes questioningly as his hand strayed to a strap.

Arya bit her lower lip and nodded, dropping her arms down to her side. Almost unable to believe what was happening, Gendry tugged the strap down her shoulder, over the mound of her breast, groaning when he realized she had nothing on underneath. Her nipple sprang free, the beaded tip jutting out, and he brushed his thumb over it, fascinated at the way it rolled under his touch. He spread his fingers, trailing them after his thumb, running them over her dusky peak. 

She hissed, and he stilled his movement to tear his eyes from her chest to see her watching him, her pupils blown wide.

“Is that all-”

She cut him off. “Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

He felt a smirk cross his face, and he brought his fingers together to lightly pinch the pebbled bud, feeling a surge of satisfaction at her gasp. “Is that a command, Lady Stark?” he teased.

“Don’t call me- Oh, shit.” Her words turned into a moan as he gently twisted his hand, her eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. “Fuck, Gendry, that’s so good.”

He tugged on her shirt again, and she complied immediately, pulling her arms through the straps as he pushed the fabric down, revealing another tight bud that he immediately bent down to take in his mouth. Arya’s hands flew to his head, winding through his hair and drawing a moan from him as she tugged him closer. 

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this?” she gasped as she lifted up on her toes, arching her back to give him better access.

He smiled against her skin, giddy at her words.  _ She wanted him. Arya wanted him.  _ And he had never been one to deny Arya anything she wanted. Gendry moved his hands to her waist, lifted her, and spun around to set her on the counter. Her legs came up to wrap around him, pulling him closer. He leaned against her, burying his head between her breasts. 

“Probably as long as I have,” he said, turning his face to nuzzle his nose against her nipple before darting his tongue out to taste her again.

“Why- Oh!” She reached for the hand at her waist and pulled it back to where it’d been, pressing his fingers into her breast again. “Why did we wait so long?” 

He didn’t answer immediately, just pressed soft kisses over her skin, smiling at the soft sighs she was letting out. “Because, as you love to remind me,” he said, moving to suck lightly against her neck, “I am stupid.”

She laughed breathily, a sound that he realized he’d never, ever get enough of. “Stupid,” she said fondly. 

He pulled back to meet her eyes, suddenly warm with emotion, with the feel of her in his arms. “Stupid for you, Arya. I’m so fucking stupid for you.”

Her eyes softened, and she surged forward to kiss him again, her hands coming up to gently cup his face, as she pulled his bottom lip in between her teeth. Gendry groaned, pressing into her and moving his hands to wrap around her back pulling her close, never close enough. 

“Gods, Arya,” he breathed into her mouth, “you’re perfect.” He peppered kisses across her jaw and down her throat until he found a spot that made her whimper. Halting his search, he slid one hand up her back and into her hair as he latched on to her skin, sucking marks into her pale flesh. 

“You’re- Oh, fuck, don’t stop.” Her hands were suddenly under his shirt, roaming over his lower back, and he stopped, unable to concentrate with the way her nails were dancing across his skin. 

He nuzzled into her neck, breathing in her scent, heady with lust. Gods, but he  _ needed  _ her. Needed to bury himself so deeply inside her that he might never find his way out. He was so far gone for her already, and now with her pressed against him, practically topless and breathing heavily in his ear, he had just enough clarity to realize that this, what they were in the middle of, could destroy him if it wasn’t what he thought it was, and by gods, he would let it. Vaguely, through the haze of her hands slipping beneath his waistband to slide down over his ass, he felt he should say something. Something to clarify. Something noteworthy and significant.

“I don’t want to fuck you,” he said against her neck, and she stilled immediately, her hands pulling out of his pants in seconds.

“What?” Her voice was small, fragile.

Gendry pulled back to look at her, his heart dropping at the dismay on her face. “Shit. That came out wrong. I do want to fuck you,” he said. “But I don’t want to  _ just _ fuck you.” A terrible dread filled him, that despite all of this, they didn’t actually want the same thing. “That’s not what this is, is it? This isn’t just about sex to you, is it? Because if it is, I don’t-”

She surged forward to kiss him again, cutting him off. “No, Gendry,” she said softly. “This is so much more than that. This is…” She trailed off, biting her bottom lip as she gazed at him. “This is everything.”

Relief rushed through him and he dropped his forehead to press against hers. “Good,” he breathed, lifting his hands to bury them in her hair, to hold her close, “because stepping away from you right now would be impossible, love.”

She drew back slightly, eyes widening at the term of endearment, and she stared at him for a moment, her eyes searching his. “Love?” she repeated softly, a question in her voice, and he nodded.

“I love you,” he said simply, his heart feeling as if it might burst when her eyes brightened and she smiled so beautifully he could have cried. 

She stared at him for a moment then nodded. “I think I must have always loved you,” she said. “I can’t even remember a time that I didn’t.”

He let out a shaky breath, and leaned in to kiss her again. Softer this time. Gentle and slow, trying to put everything he felt for her into it as he moved his lips against hers. Arya let out a small chuckle, and he couldn’t help but join her, their kiss broken up by their laughter, neither one able to hold in their delight for long. 

His hands slid down to her back as they kissed slowly, fingers grazing her skin as he ran them lightly up and down her spine. She shivered in his arms, and then reached behind her to grab them, bringing them around so his hands were on her thighs, her skirt riding up just a bit, his palms resting on her skin. 

“Touch me,” she said softly, spreading her thighs just a bit wider and planting her hands on the counter beside her. “I want you to touch me.” 

Gendry’s hands slid down, just to the edge of her skirt, then back up, his fingers dipping under the fabric, tightening around her thighs. He watched her face, her eyes almost black as she met his gaze. 

“Tell me, Gendry,” she whispered. “Is this how you dreamed it?”

He stared at her stupidly for a moment. Dream Gendry was confident, commanding. Completely in control and absolutely sure of everything. Real life Gendry was… not. Despite Arya’s eager response to his touch, he was still uncertain about everything, whether he was doing it right, whether this was really what she wanted from him. He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing, letting the memories of those many, many restless nights wash over him, trying to capture that confidence, that assuredness that made him so very dominant in his dreams. He opened his eyes to see her, pupils blown wide and chest heaving, and something in him shifted. His nerves were… not gone, but calm, and a boldness he’d never known filled him.

His lips quirked up in a smirk, and his right hand slid up. Up and in. To between her legs, and his fingers brushed against her core. She sucked in her breath, her eyes fluttering shut as he gently pressed the backs of his fingers against her clothed heat, his pulse thrumming through him as he watched her mouth fall open.

He leaned in, his lips just a breath away from her ear. “Almost.” His thumb moved, catching on the edge of her knickers, slipping into her wet, hot folds, and drawing a loud moan from both of them. Gendry pulled back to lock eyes with her as he began to stroke. His thumb slowly moving up and down, just barely catching on her clit with each upward movement. 

“Oh, fuck,” she breathed, and her hips rolled foward chasing after him. Her hand shot out to pull on his belt, fingers fumbling with the buckle. He caught her wrist firmly in his grasp, halting her movements.

Arya looked up at him, confusion on her face. “Why’d you stop me?” she asked breathlessly.

Gendry smiled slowly and shook his head. “I thought you wanted to know how I touch you when I sleep.”

Arya stilled the gentle rutting of her hips and blinked at him. “Do you not-” 

He slid his thumb down to her entrance and pressed it into her, pulling a breathy whimper from her lips. “Did you think I just fucked you?” he asked as he started to slowly pull his thumb out, then without warning plunged it back into her, smirking as her head dropped back and her eyes fluttered shut. “Did you think that it was all about me?”

He twisted his hand, removing his thumb and sliding a finger into her, crooking it up. Arya clenched around him, and he closed his eyes, savoring the heat of her, the tight grip of her cunt. 

“Did you think I didn’t touch you here?” He slid his other around her waist and down to firmly grasp her ass, marveling at how well it fit inside his palm. “Or here?” He leaned forward to nuzzle his nose against the crook of her neck for a moment before he pressed gentle kisses against her skin. “Or here?” He moved to brush his lips against her ear, gratified at the shallowness of her breaths. “Did you think I didn’t worship every inch of you before I ever thought of myself?”

Gendry drew back and brought his face to hers, his lips hovering next to hers. “Did you think that I could ever have you in front of me like this and just…” He trailed off, unable to express just how much he wanted this.

Arya blinked at him slowly, her breaths coming out in short gasps as he continued to move the finger between her legs. 

“I- Oh, gods,” she moaned. “I want to touch you,” she said plaintively and flicked her wrist, trying to shake off his hand. “Please let me touch you, Gendry.”

The longing in her voice shot straight to his cock, already impossibly hard, and he nodded. She smiled, her fingers already working at his belt, and within seconds, her small warm hand was wrapped around his length, moving up and down, the heat spreading through him as his breathing grew more and more shallow with every stroke of her hand. He’d dreamed this, but nothing his mind came up with could compare to what the weight of her hand around him felt like. 

“Please, Gendry,” she whispered, tugging him closer as she wiggled to the edge of the counter, pressing her cunt against him. “Please fuck me. Don’t make me beg.” Her wide eyes were gazing up at him, her desperation clear, and he almost gave in, almost yanked her knickers off and buried himself inside her.

He reluctantly shook his head, and grasped her wrist tugging it off his cock and out of his pants, determined to make this last. “I want to taste you first. Can’t I?” he asked. “Can’t I please see how good you taste? I know you must.” He pulled his hand out of her cunt, and brought it up to his mouth, keeping his eyes locked on hers as he sucked her arousal off his finger, humming in delight at the delicate taste that was Arya. 

She was breathing heavily, her open mouth trembling as she watched him, and he couldn’t help but make a little show of it, slowly pulling his finger out of his mouth, his tongue darting out to gather every last bit of her. 

“I knew it,” he said triumphantly, meeting her heated gaze. She drew in a sharp breath, and he slid his hands back up her thighs and hooked his fingers in the waistband of her knickers. Arya lifted herself, and he tugged them down her legs, kneeling to pull them off of her feet. “I knew-” he said, grasping her knees and nudging them apart before shifting forward, slotting himself between her legs, his eyes locked on hers. “That you-” 

He slid his hands slowly up her legs, pushing her skirt until he felt his palms hit the crease of her thighs. Arya was watching him intently, her lower lip tucked in between her teeth, her breaths shallow as he slipped his hands between her legs and gently pushed them further apart. “Would be-” He finally tore his eyes from her and dropped them to where her legs were spread, her cunt glistening before him. His mouth dropped open, and he breathed in sharply, his eyes darting back to hers for a moment. “Mouthwatering.” And he dove in, his tongue licking a long stripe up her folds. 

“Oh, fuck.” He felt her shudder beneath him, her body curling in on itself as she moaned loudly. Her thighs clamped around his head, and a surge of satisfaction roared through him. 

She was intoxicating. Her scent. Her taste. The pressure of her legs against him. The feel of her skin beneath his hands. The little high pitched cries she was letting out as he pulled her clit between his lips. The fire in her eyes and the almost obscene look on her face that met him when he raised his eyes to watch her. All of his senses were consumed by Arya. He was surrounded by her, drowning in her, lost in the feel of her. Everything was Arya, and Arya was everything.

He felt her fingers wrap around his wrist, grabbing his attention, and he paused, both grateful and disappointed for a moment to catch his breath, for his pulse to slow. 

“Fuck me, Arya,” he breathed against the inside of her thigh. “You’re so good, love. You taste so fucking good.” He pressed sloppy, open mouthed kisses against her leg, then turned back to bury his face between her legs again, grinning when he felt her arch off the counter, a needy moan falling from her lips as she fell back to the counter behind her. 

He slid his hand down, teasing her entrance with the tips of his fingers as his mouth moved to latch on to her clit again. The hand she had wrapped around his other wrist clenched tightly for a moment, then tugged, guiding his hand back up to her breast. Her fingers slid from his wrist to cover his hand with hers and tightened, wordlessly encouraging him. He blindly felt for her nipple, twisting it gently, pride rushing through him as she keened beneath his touch, her breaths turning into short gasps. 

“Don’t stop,” she moaned. “So close, Gendry. I’m so-” Her words cut off as he felt her cunt clench tightly around his fingers, and she lifted bodily off the counter, her back bowing as her orgasm hit. He slowed his movements, gently lapping his tongue against her until she sank back against his counter, gasping for breath. His hand slid to rest between her breasts, where he could feel her heart pounding beneath his palm. 

He stayed there, knelt in front of her for a moment, relishing the wild beat of her pulse, that he’d done that to her. And then suddenly the feel of it wasn’t enough. He pulled himself to his feet and leaned down over her, resting his head against her chest, the sound of her racing heart echoing through him, soaking into his very soul.

Her hand came up to tangle in his hair, and he hummed appreciatively. “What are you doing?” she asked weakly. 

“I want to hear it,” he said quietly, feeling unexpectedly bashful, considering what he’d been doing with his tongue not a minute earlier. 

Arya let out a faint chuckle, the movement vibrating against him. “Feeling proud of ourselves, are we?” 

He flushed hotly and began stammering, but she cut him off firmly. 

“Because you  _ really _ should be.”

He started, an embarrassed sort of triumph rushing through him and he lifted his head to meet her gaze. Arya’s eyes were half closed, but her lips quirked up in half a smile as she watched him. 

“Kiss me,” she said, struggling to raise herself up on her elbows. 

Gendry slid his arm behind her back and helped her up, guiding her face to his, and sinking into the kiss. Her lips parted beneath his, and he slipped his tongue into her mouth, savoring the taste. He tilted his head, intending to deepen the kiss, but she pulled back, drawing in a deep breath as her lips left his. 

“What-” 

Her fingers came up to rest on his lips, quieting him, and he froze, worried he’d done something wrong. But then she  _ leered _ at him, and her hands moved to his collar. 

“S’not fair, you know,” she said conversationally, undoing the top button. “Here I am, tits out.” His eyes shot down to said tits, perky, pale, and perfect, and he felt his groin tighten, his cock practically vibrating with desire. “No knickers. Skirt hiked about my waist, and you’re practically completely dressed.” Her fingers had worked their way down his shirt as she talked, now fully open over his chest. Arya’s hands flattened against him, sliding up and pushing the fabric over his shoulders and down his arms before returning her attention to his already undone trousers. “I think you should take these off.” Her fingers dipped under the edge of his boxer briefs. “Then, I think you should take  _ these _ off. Then, I think you should let me show you what  _ I _ dream of.”

Her eyes were dark, roaming over his bare chest and down to the extremely noticeable bulge below his waist. Gendry watched her face as he pushed his pants down over his hips and stepped out of them, breaking her gaze to stop and pull his socks off. When he drew himself up in front of her, clad only in a pair of black boxer briefs, he was dumbstruck by the look of naked lust on her face as she stared at him.

He tucked his thumbs into the waistband and took a deep breath. 

“Wait.” 

He froze, staring at her uncertainly. Had she changed her mind? Was he moving too fast?

“Let me,” she said huskily, dropping down from his counter and covering his hands with hers. She pulled his hands together, grasping them in one of hers as she turned, tugging him into his small living room. He stumbled after her, letting her lead him. He’d let her lead him anywhere. 

They stopped in front of his couch, and she maneuvered him slightly, twisting him around, then pushed on his chest, shoving him backwards. He sat down hard, plopping back against the cushions and gazing up at the woman who’d put him there. 

She was beautiful. Cheeks flushed and hair wild, he’d never seen her look quite so undone. Her skirt had fallen back down, but her shirt was still bunched about her waist, her chest on full display for his greedy eyes. He started to lean forward, to pull her to him, but she moved, dropping to her knees in front of him, stealing his breath away. 

She planted her hands on his knees and shifted herself forward, her eyes locked on his. “Do you know how many times I’ve dreamt of this?” she asked, a slight tremor in her voice. 

He found he couldn’t actually speak, not with the way her hands were skating up his thighs, the way her tongue flicked across her lips. He shook his head. 

“It always starts the same.” Her fingers hooked into his waistband, and it felt like fire against his skin. “We’re watching a movie, and for some reason, you’re naked, but it doesn’t seem strange.” She tilted her head and leaned forward to press her lips against his stomach, and he let out a strangled whimper. “Like it’s just a thing, you know. You being naked in front of me.” 

She kissed her way down to the edge of his underwear, her breath hot against him. “And then, suddenly, I’m naked too.” She sat up, staring at him for a moment before reaching down to shove her tank top and her skirt down over her hips and down to her knees, lifting them one at a time to slip them off, leaving her completely bare in front of him. 

His breath was coming out in long, shaky gasps as his eyes traveled over her. She was glorious, her skin almost glowing in the dim light, and he could hardly believe that she was here, in front of him. 

“And then, I’m here, just like this.” She shuffled her knees, moving slightly closer, and bent her head down to nuzzle her face against his clothed erection. Gendry’s head fell back against the pillows, and he groaned, heat coursing through him at the pressure. Her hands moved to tug on his underwear, and he lifted his hips immediately, giving her room to pull them down over his ass, his cock springing free as she pulled them down and off his legs, tossing them to the floor beside her. 

For a moment, neither of them moved, then he felt her hand wrap around him, soft and warm, and he lifted his head to see her looking wide eyed at where she was holding him. 

“I-” Her voice faltered, and her gaze darted to his face briefly before focusing on his crotch again. “I don’t actually know-” She cut herself off and shook her head slightly. “So, I’m here,” she said, her voice confident again. “Naked. On my knees in front of you, and you just… smile, like it’s something you were expecting.” Her eyes lifted, almost burning him with the heat in her gaze. “And then…” She trailed off and her hand released him as her eyes dropped to his lap. She licked her lips nervously, but she was still, unmoving, and despite the painfully delicious ache in his groin, he knew he had to give her the opportunity to stop. 

“Hey,” he said, his hand coming up to brush her cheek, and her eyes shot to him. “You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to.”

Arya huffed. “But I do want to,” she said quietly. “I’m just not sure how good this will be for you.”

Gendry snorted. “Love, right now I’m about two seconds from coming all over your tits, and you’ve barely even touched me.” He tilted his head slightly, and fixed her with a pointed look. “This has been so fucking good, Arya. You are- You’re-” He stopped, unable to find the words to explain just how electric her touch was, how the feel of her beneath him left him hovering at a precipice, ready to tumble over it at the slightest nudge. “You’re in my skin, Arya. All I feel is you, and just the thought of your-” He stopped and swallowed hard, images of her lips wrapped around him rushing through him. “Your mouth on me has me so close already, I’m not going to last very long at all.”

Arya’s lips curved up and her eyes brightened slightly in delight. “Yeah?” she asked breathlessly.

He nodded, leaning forward to kiss her. “Yeah,” he said. 

She drew herself up, determination in her eyes, and her hand pushed him, shoving him back against the couch as she bent her head down and licked a tentative stripe up his shaft, before taking him in her mouth. 

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, his hips bucking up involuntarily into the warm heat of her mouth. 

She sputtered, pulling off of him and coughing.

“Fuck, I’m sorry!” He tried to sit up, but she just laughed and pushed him back to the couch. 

“It’s all right,” she said, leaning back down, her eyes on his. “Just maybe, don’t do that, yeah?”

He nodded, firmly setting his hands on either side of him, determined not to move, eyes locked on her as she slowly lowered herself down. She paused and looked up at him. “Would you- Would you tell me if it’s okay? If I need to do something else?”

His breath caught at the look of worry in her eyes, as if anything she did could be anything less than bliss, but he nodded wordlessly, watching as she bent her head down and enveloped him in her mouth once again. 

“Fuck, love,” he groaned. “You feel so good, Arya.” Her hand came back to wrap around him, tentatively stroking as she began moving her mouth up and down over his cock. His head fell back to the cushions, and a litany of curses fell from his lips. He could already feel it building, deep in his groin, ready to burst, and he moved his hand to cover hers, helping her find a rhythm. 

“Like that. Just like that,” he managed to gasp out. “You’re perfect. You feel so good. Your hand, your mouth. Fuck. You’re amazing, love.” He was babbling now, nonsense spilling out of his mouth as her head bobbed up and down in his lap, her hair tickling his thighs, falling around her face like a curtain, obscuring his view. 

He needed to see. Needed to know that this wasn’t a dream. He lifted his other hand and brushed aside her hair, inhaling sharply when her eyes lifted up to meet his from where she knelt between his legs. “Holy fuck,” he breathed, nearly speechless at the sight of his cock disappearing into her mouth. His balls tightened suddenly, and he had just enough presence of mind to shift his hands to her head and pull her off of him as he came, spurting thickly over his chest. 

Heart racing, he fell back against the couch again, his breath coming out in great gulping gasps. His eyes fluttered shut, and he dropped his head back, revelling in the waves of pleasure crashing through him, the only sound the thundering of his pulse in his head. 

Gradually, he came back to himself, the sounds of the city outside his flat fading back in, his heartbeat slowly returning to something resembling normal. Something soft swept across his chest, and he lifted his head to see Arya pressing her shirt against him, wiping away his release, an odd look on her face as she gently cleaned him. 

Concern filled him, and he caught her wrist in his grasp. Her head jerked up, her eyes almost troubled as she met his gaze. “Hey,” he said softly. “Are you all right? Was that-”

“Why’d you stop me?” 

He blinked. “What?”

“At the end. When you- Why’d you stop me?”

He stared at her, bewildered at her question. “I didn’t think you’d want to- you know.”

She frowned and turned her attention back to his chest, swiping down across his stomach one more time before tossing her shirt to the ground and looking back up at him. “Maybe.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought maybe- It wasn’t right or-” 

His hands shot to her sides and tugged her to his lap, wrapping his arms around her as her legs settled on either side of him. “Don’t you ever think that,” he said firmly, shaking his head at her. “I told you, you’re perfect.”

She flushed suddenly, pink rising in her cheeks as she tried to hold back a grin. “You went down on me,” she stated. “On your kitchen counter.”

He blinked at her. He’d been so caught up in what they were doing that he hadn’t actually thought about what they were doing. Suddenly, it hit him that Arya was naked in his arms, that they’d gotten each other off in an absolutely spectacular fashion, and he felt a grin cross his face. “I did,” he agreed, his hands sliding down and gripping her thighs. “And you had my cock in your mouth.”

Her eyes widened, and she smirked. “I did.”

They stared at each other for a moment, then both dissolved into giggles, Arya’s head dropping into his shoulder as she shook with laughter. Gendry’s arms moved to pull her close, kissing the side of her head.

“This isn’t going to change anything, is it?” she asked, her voice muffled against him, and he stiffened. “I mean,” she continued, “us being together is pretty much just going to be the same as before, right? Just less clothing?”

His shoulders sagged in relief, and he slid a hand down to cup her ass, his fingers digging into her. She gasped, her hips rolling into him, and then her teeth bit down into his neck. Yelping, he twisted and flung her to the couch beside him, grabbing her hands and pinning her down, his chest pressed against her bare skin as he kissed her fiercely. “I’m. Never. Letting. You. Get. Dressed. Again,” he said between kisses. 

She laughed. “Is that so?”

“Mmm-hmm. New rule,” he said, trailing his lips down her throat. “This flat is a no clothes zone.”

Arya’s legs wrapped around him, her hips lifting up and pressing against his rapidly growing erection. “I suppose that’s fair.” She slipped a wrist out of his grasp and snaked it around his back and down to squeeze his ass. “Although, it might make things awkward if anyone else is here.” 

He pulled back to look at her, feigning deep contemplation. “All right,” he conceded. “Clothes on if Hot Pie’s here.” 

She laughed again, her eyes softening as she gazed up at him. “Deal,” she said smiling. “But no one’s here now, and I’m pretty sure that eating me out on your kitchen counter isn’t the only thing you’ve ever dreamed about, is it?”

He inhaled sharply and shook his head. 

Her mouth twisted, and her legs tightened around his waist. “Because sucking you off on your couch is usually just the warm up in my dreams.” Arya’s eyes darkened, and she lifted herself up to suck his lip between her teeth and bite down. The sharp stab of pain shot to his cock, and he groaned, his hips rolling into her. “Tell me,” she breathed. “Tell me where you fuck me.”

Gendry’s eyes fluttered shut, the vision of countless dreams washing over him, almost overwhelming him with anticipation. “Here,” he said, opening his eyes and jerking his head to indicate the couch. “There.” He pointed at the oversized armchair at the end of his coffee table. “On the coffee table. On the kitchen table. On the kitchen counter. Against the door. On the floor.” He paused for a moment, bending down to press his lips behind her ear, and she shuddered. “In the shower, where for some reason, we’re usually mostly clothed. On the balcony, in broad daylight where anyone can see.” His hand slid down between them, delving into her folds, and she moaned. “On my work table. In my car. On the steps to the Red Keep.” She let out a breathy laugh that morphed into a gasp as he pressed his finger into her. 

“I don’t- Oh! I don’t think that last one is realistic,” she gasped. “But we can work on the others.” She met his eyes with a heated gaze. “What about in your bed?” Her voice was husky, and he thought perhaps a little shaky. 

He nodded once, and she smiled. “Well then, show me,” she commanded, and he had no choice but to obey. 

***

Arya followed him down the hall, one hand clasped in his, heart racing and nerves practically dancing with anticipation. Her entire body was on edge, ready to burst into flames at his lightest touch, like a match just waiting for a spark. 

She hadn’t known what would happen when she sent that text. If he’d deny everything, tell her it was a joke. If he’d kiss her gently and swear to court her properly. If he’d drop to one knee and propose. She supposed she knew that this was a possibility, the two of them, naked, that they’d end up in bed. And she supposed that she knew that it would be good, the two of them together. 

But the reality of it exceeded even those dreams that woke her gasping for breath. Dreams so sultry, so vivid, that she practically  _ burned _ with his phantom touch, waking with an ache that took only a whisper to quell. But the weight of his hands, his tongue, his chest against her, bringing her to a writhing, whimpering wreck beneath him. There was no way she could have ever suspected it would feel quite like  _ that. _

Her cheeks flushed at the memory of the way he’d undone her, the ease at which “love” had fallen from his lips. She hadn’t suspected that either.  _ He loved her. _ He loved her and she loved him, and after, she supposed they’d have to do something about that. Have a talk about what all this meant, the implications and the repercussions. 

But right now, that didn’t matter. Details didn’t matter. All that mattered was the pressure of his hand in hers as he led her to his bedroom. She’d almost think this a dream if not for that. She’d never manage to recreate the exact feel of his calloused hands, the way his fingers tightened imperceptibly when they reached his bedroom door. No, that was pure Gendry.

She watched him pause, his shoulders dropping as he let out a long breath and lifted his hand to turn the knob. “I, uh, didn’t really expect this,” he said, his tone apologetic when he pushed open the door to his room. “I would have straightened up or washed my sheets or something.” 

She snorted and followed him in. “I don’t think either of us expected this. If I had, I would have worn lacy knickers or something sexier.”

Gendry stopped and whirled around, almost glaring at her. “You are the sexiest fucking woman in the world, so if you’re wearing it, it’s sexy by default.” Then his eyes narrowed, and he tugged her closer. “You have lacy knickers?” His voice had gone a little gravelly, his eyes roaming over her hungrily. 

Arya nodded, heat rushing through her at the thought of showing him any of her knickers, which, considering she didn’t have on a stitch of clothing at the moment, was a little ridiculous. 

“I’d definitely like to see you in lacy knickers,” he growled, a dark expression on his face. He stared at her for a moment, then hummed thoughtfully. “I have to confess that I’ve thought a lot about your knickers,” he mused. “Pictured you in all kinds, but I never dreamed I’d actually get to see them.” He took a step back and let his gaze travel slowly over her naked form, his eyes dark with lust. “Never dreamed I’d ever see you like this either.”

Arya’s breath stuttered, and she felt warmth pooling between her legs again, arousal flooding through her at the look on his face. No one had ever looked at her like that before. She’d never expected anyone to, not even him, no matter how much she wished it. But he  _ was _ looking at her like that, like she was something to be  _ consumed _ . Like he wanted nothing more than to devour every last bit of her, and gods help her, she was going to let him.

She reached behind her and shut his bedroom door, then took a step back, leaning against it and arching her back slightly, pushing up her breasts, pushing aside her insecurities and laying herself bare. “And? Now that you’ve seen it? Is it what you dreamed it would be?”

In seconds, Gendry was pressing her back against the wood, his lips on hers, his hands skating down her sides and grasping her thighs to lift her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, his erection brushing against her. “More. So much more,” he said against her lips, his breath causing a shudder to ripple through her. “You are radiantly, incandescently, blindingly gorgeous, and I keep expecting to wake up from this. That this is the best dream I’ve ever had, and any minute now my alarm is going to start blaring and I’ll open my eyes and you’ll be gone and I’ll be in my bed alone.”

He sounded so forlorn, so lost. As if he really did believe she wasn’t there. Her heart clenched, and she wound her fingers into his hair, tightening them against his head. “I’m not a dream,” she said softly. “I’m here. With you.” 

He pulled back to meet her eyes, his face soft, full of emotion. “You’re here with me,” he repeated, smiling at her. He was still for a moment, just watching her, almost drinking her in, then the corner of his mouth quirked up and he thrust his hips up, his cock pushing against her center, and she moaned at the pressure, her arousal roaring through her. “If you are a dream,” he said playfully, “you’re the best fucking one I’ve ever had, and if it’s okay with you, I’d really like to be inside you now.”

She inhaled sharply at the jolt his words sent to her cunt. A throbbing ache pulsed out from between her thighs, and she tightened her legs around him. “Please,” she breathed, feeling as if she might burst out of her skin if he didn’t kiss her again. 

Gendry repositioned his hands on the back of her thighs, hoisting her up a little higher before dipping his head and covering her mouth with his. He’d already kissed her slowly, playfully, fiercely, and tenderly. This was beyond any of that. It was want and wonder and worship all wrapped up in one, and it nearly overwhelmed her. 

He walked backwards, his lips still moving against hers until his legs hit the bed, and he fell back, sinking into the mattress and pulling her on top of him. Her legs settled on either side of him, pressing her core into him, both groaning at the contact. One of Gendry’s hands slid up to bury itself in her hair, his arm flush with her spine, the other moved to cup her ass, both of them holding her tight against him, as if he were trying to have every inch of her touching him as closely as he could.

He was molten beneath her, burning embers that seared her skin, scorching her, leaving indelible scars behind, remnants of his touch that she knew would never leave her, like a layer of ash that wouldn’t wash away. The emotion nearly choked her. It was almost too much.

Almost.

Her hips rolled, the slick heat between her thighs slipping over him, sliding up and down his length as she rutted against him. He let out a long, low groan that seemed to burrow itself in her gut, spreading through her until her entire being was enflamed with the heat of Gendry’s groan.

“Fuck, Arya,” he gasped, and he drew back slightly, meeting her gaze with eyes so dark she could scarcely see the blue. “Are you sure about this, love?” 

She nodded. “I’m sure.”

A smile spread across his face, and he kissed her softly. “Me too.” He rolled, pushing her down into the mattress, his hand drifting down to settle between her legs, stroking her gently. 

Her eyes closed, and she melted into him, her entire body somehow both relaxing and tensing at the way his hand was touching her, the sensations that were flooding through her. His mouth on her had been incredible, but she ached for more. Her hips jerked up, and he chuckled. 

“Is that good?” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear. 

“Mmm.” She wasn’t sure she trusted her voice, not with the way his fingers were toying with her. 

“Tell me,” he said. “Tell me what you want me to do. Tell me how I do this in your dreams.”

She flushed hotly, suddenly embarrassed, but his voice, silky and smooth and positively sinful was swaying her, coaxing her to spill all those secret fantasies, those filthy thoughts that had inhabited her dreams for far too long. 

“Tell me, Arya. Do I fuck you with my fingers first?” He slipped a finger inside her, and she whined, a needy sound that cut through the air of his bedroom. “Am I fast?” His finger slid out, then back in, quickly thrusting into her. She arched into him, pushing against him, willing him to go faster, but then he suddenly stopped, dragging his hand slowly in and out, creating an absolutely delicious friction. “Or am I slow?”

She let out a long, throaty moan, clenching around him, his movements drawing out little ripples of heat that were pulsing through her. “Yes. Either. Both. All of it. Sometimes, that’s all you do, just finger me until I’m screaming your name.”

He made a strangled noise, and she looked up at him. “Would you like that? Me screaming your name?”

He swallowed, then nodded once, his face slack, and she raised herself up to brush her mouth against his ear. “Gendry.” His name fell from her lips, drawn out slowly, seductively, and he shuddered. “Gendry,” she said again, a little huskier, and he groaned, his head angling towards hers, pressing into her, his breathing growing shallow. “Gendry.”

The hand between her legs stilled, and his head dropped to rest against her shoulder. “I love the way you say my name.”

Arya let out a breathy laugh, and turned to draw his ear between her teeth, smirking at the way his hips thrust against her. “Good,” she teased. “Now let’s see if you can get me to scream it.”

He pulled back, propping himself up on his arms and looked at her, eyes dark, searching hers. After a moment, his mouth twisted into a wicked smirk, then suddenly his face fell, his expression stricken. “Shit,” he said, sitting up on his knees.

Confused and a bit concerned, she pulled herself up beside him. “What?”

“I-” He put his face in his hands and let out a long huff of frustration. “I don’t have any condoms,” he said through his fingers.

She blinked. “Oh,” she said. “I’ve got an IUD, though, so you’re not going to knock me up, and considering I’ve never done-” A thought struck her, and she looked at him curiously. “Why don’t you have any condoms?”

Gendry dropped his hands and met her gaze, a slightly embarrassed look in his eyes. “I’ve been in love with you since I was about sixteen. There’s never been anyone else, Arya.”

Surprise rushed through her. She’d been sure he would have done this before. “Oh, that’s- I didn’t- You haven’t?” He shook his head, his cheeks tinged pink, and a small swell of satisfaction bloomed in her chest. She smiled, then nodded. “I guess we’ll figure this out together then?”

Gendry chuckled and shifted himself to the center of the bed before reaching out and taking her hand, pulling her to his lap to straddle him, his hands settling on her hips. “Hypothetically, I’m an expert, you know,” he said. “Considering how many times we’ve done this in my dreams. And-” He cut himself off, his eyes darting away from her self-consciously.

“And what?” She tilted her head questioningly. 

“I’ve… researched.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Researched?”

He met her eyes again, and he nodded reluctantly, his cheeks now a bright red, and she couldn’t help the smirk that spread across her face. “You don’t have to tell me,” she said, “but you should know that I’ve done my own research, so maybe at some point we should compare notes, figure out the best sources, most reliable and all that.” 

He smiled slowly, his lips curving up in amusement. “Maybe consult some sources together?” he asked, and his thumbs started moving on her hips, drawing small circles on her skin.

She closed her eyes and shifted slightly, letting out a long breath as his hands gripped tighter, pulling her hips down against him. “Mmm-hmm,” she hummed, scooting forward so her cunt was pressed against his length, hot and hard beneath her. “We’ve always studied together well, so I don’t see why-” Her words morphed into a breathy moan as Gendry rolled his hips up, his cock rubbing against her. 

Arya surged forward, kissing him hard, opening her mouth to let his tongue slide in, groaning at the feel of him. Her arms snaked around his neck, and she pressed her torso against his, her nipples dragging across his chest hair, the tickling sensation unlike anything she’d ever felt. 

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, rutting into each other, it might have been all night, but when his hand slid between them, his thumb moving against her clit, she finally pulled back, breathless and wanting him more than anything. Her hands pushed gently against his chest, laying him down on the mattress, and she moved, lifting herself up to position herself over top of him. 

She met his gaze and was almost dumbstruck by the emotion on his face, the depth of love she saw in his eyes. They simply stared at each other for a moment, chests heaving, then without even a word, they both reached for him, positioning his cock at her entrance, and then locking eyes with him again, she slowly sank down. 

Her eyes slammed shut, and her face screwed up as Gendry let out a loud groan. It didn’t hurt, not really. It was just… different, completely unlike her vibrator or her own fingers or even his. He was thick and long and the stretch of her cunt around him was very nearly painful, but yet not.

She shifted slightly, trying to give herself a moment to adjust to his cock inside her, and he whined, a quiet, almost desperate whine. Her eyes shot open, and he was looking up at her with wide, awed eyes.

“Are you all right?” he breathed, and she nodded. 

“Yes, just- give me a second.” She held perfectly still for a long moment, then rolled her hips experimentally, inhaling sharply at the sensation, at the sparks shooting through her. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned as she continued to move slowly on top of him. His hands landed on her hips, gripping her tightly, guiding her movements.

The slight discomfort had faded completely, leaving behind nothing but a growing heat creeping into her limbs, like a wisp of smoke that precedes flames bursting to life, and she knew it wouldn’t be long. She planted one hand against his chest, the other she moved to grasp his, smiling when he immediately laced his fingers through hers. 

“Tell me,” he said breathily, “tell me how it feels.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but then he jerked his hips up into her, and she moaned loudly. Picking up her pace, she gasped out the words. “Gendry, you- So good- Fuck- Gendry-” His other hand had moved back to press against her clit, rubbing circles in time with their thrusts, jolts of pleasure radiating out from where he was stroking her. And then all she could say was his name, intermingled with sounds she knew she’d never made before.

“Arya, love.” His voice was strangled, half a whisper, half a moan, and she met his gaze, unable to look away as he stoked the fire between her legs with his touch. He was beautiful, eyes heavy with lust, mouth open as he panted beneath her, his skin shining slightly with a sheen of sweat. He was beautiful and she loved him. 

And then the flames ignited, and her back arched, her head fell back, and she wailed, Gendry’s name on her lips as she unraveled around him, her entire being consumed, her release burning through her. 

Collapsing against him, she dimly recognized that he was still gently thrusting into her, and she realized he hadn’t come yet, that he’d been holding on for her. Raising her head, she met his eyes. They were wild, almost desperate, pleading with her for permission. 

“Let go, Gendry,” she said softly before tilting her head up and kissing him deeply. 

Her words were all he needed. His hands gripped her ass, fingers digging in, and his thrusts immediately turned frantic, pushing into her so hard she almost saw stars. His lips stopped moving against hers, but he didn’t pull away, just gasped into her mouth as he stilled, spilling into her with a long shuddering sigh.

His body relaxed under her, almost melting into the sheets, and she felt a surge of pride rush through her, that he was feeling that way because of her. She pressed her lips gently against his, then shifted, burrowing her head into the crook of his neck, savoring the feel of him, the gentle vibrations of his breathing, the brush of his fingers against her spine.

After a long moment, he turned his head and kissed her softly on her temple, chuckling quietly as he did.

Arya rolled off of him, his cock slipping out of her and leaving her feeling strangely empty without it. She snuggled up against him, draping her arm across his chest and smiling when his arm tightened around her.

“Well,” she said slowly, “were any of your dreams quite like that?”

Gendry huffed out in amusement, and she couldn’t help but grin. 

“Not even close, love.”

She raised herself up to meet his eyes, smiling softly at the look on his face. “Come on then,” she said, pushing herself up and standing, holding her hand out. “Let’s go eat something, then you can tell me all about the rest of those dreams.”

Gendry took her hand and pulled himself up beside her, kissing her on the tip of the nose. 

“All right,” he agreed, “but you have to promise me something.”

She raised an eyebrow at him in question, and he grinned wickedly before leaning down to whisper in her ear, his breath hot against her skin. “I want you to tell me every single, filthy thing you’ve ever dreamed of me.” She sucked in a breath, and he continued, wrapping his hand around her waist and pulling her flush against him, the heat in her belly curling up again in anticipation. “I want you to tell me because I have every intention of making all those dreams come true.”


End file.
